Red never looked so good on anyone
by PinkFever
Summary: It's been very clear by now that Mishima was no mere human. No, he wasn't like his friends, like any other human he's ever seen - Mishima was a rare type. His kind is a delicacy to any vampire, and Akira knows a few who would kill their own kind just to get a hold of him. An AU were Akira is a blood thirsty vampire and Mishima is his found prey. I own nothing.


**Mishima and Akira fanfic at your service!**

 **Please enjoy!**

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After only a month in high school Akira had already gone soft, much to his surprise.

He actually made friends, two of them in fact, and within the next month he made a third, and then a fourth. They were all human, nothing about them was special, but they were just...different. Their lives were unfortunate, and they stood out more among the constant flow of other students that roamed the halls. They were interesting. Akira liked interesting.

His current guardian, Sojiro Sakura, an old man who couldn't give two shits about what he did in his spare time, was in the middle of making coffee when he asked, "Why are you always around them?" and Akira just shrugged. The conversation never went any further after that. He knew they were human, he knew that they didn't know anything about Akira's true self, but he never said anything about it. Both of them didn't like to talk very much - well at least they had something in common.

Sojiro took him in for whatever reason after Akira found himself on the run. He had done some unforgivable things in the past, many of which he was wanting to forget, but there was always a small part of him that was glad to remember.

He was sick, and Sojiro just happened to be there to help him out when no one else would, giving him the very treatment his own parents refused to provide. He had a roof over his head, a place to sleep, and a new identity; none of the above being very decent mind you, but it was something, and Akira was to tired to complain.

Ryuji was the first to visit him, and that's when Sojiro found out about his little group. They spent most of the time in his room playing some old games he brought over, but as soon as he left that's when Akira realized something. He was far to comfortable around them. That had to change.

After that he refused to meet up with them anywhere after school, and that was his first mistake. Ann was the one who confronted him about it, his other friend, cornering him at his desk before he had the chance to leave class. She was pretty angry about it.

"What's the big deal? Are you mad at us or something?" She crossed her arms and took the empty seat next to him, refusing to let the subject go."I know you don't like to talk much, but still."

 _Stubborn,_ Akira thinks. Well, he was the one who signed up for this, but consequences be damned.

He made up some excuse about not feeling to well lately, stomach problems, probably a bug, but she didn't by it. Later on that day Ann must have told the others what happened, because now Makoto was sending him a few messages of her own after school, asking what was going on. He gave her the same excuse. It didn't work. That was the only time he took the long way home.

* * *

The following day was when everything went straight to hell.

It happened to be in the middle of class when something sweet caught his attention. It smelled _amazing_ , and Akira had to swallow every damn second just to keep himself from drooling like an idiot.

His senses were going wild, and it was _slowly killing him_ not knowing why.

Kawakami was called over the intercom for a reason Akira couldn't quite remember, but as soon as she left the room the scent only got stronger. He got antsy, greedy - _hungry_. Swallowing for the umpteenth time that period, Akira finally made the decision to abruptly excuse himself from class before the teacher came back, locking himself in the boys restroom until lunch.

"What the hell was that all about?" Ann asked him, she caught him wondering the halls on his way to some vending machine.

"Had to throw up." Akira sighs, stuffing both hands into his pocket. They were still shaking.

This time she seemed to believe him, convincing him to go to the nurses office with a harsh shove despite his protesting, but that's when the sweetness hits him again, _hard_. Akira finds himself taking a step back, slightly dizzy because of the sudden impact, and that worries the female more. She tells the nurse and the women instructs her to head back to class while she takes care of everything else.

Akira is put on one of the nursing bed's and is told to stay put for a bit while she heads out, handed a buck 'just in case', but soon as she leaves the room he has to investigate. Like an animal he sniffs the air, checking behind a few of the curtains, under the bed, in the counter tops, and then he notices a few dirtied towels by the sink.

They were covered in blood.

His heart drops.

There...wasn't much blood, only a few drops, but it was _intoxicating_. Without thinking he takes up the cloth, sniffing it once, twice, and now he's _growling_.

Human blood. It was human blood, but _who's_? The question repeated itself over and over and over again, and it was poison to him.

He's sampling the cloth when-

"Kurusu?"

He drops the towel as if it were on fire, turning around only to have the scent come back ten times stronger. He's frozen, eye's wide as the two of them just _stare_ at one another.

Mishima had just come out of the small bathroom around the corner, another towel in his hand, soaked with _red_. He seems to notice Akira's focus on the wound and that's when he starts to explain. "Ah, this. Well I had an accident last week at home and cut my hand a little, it's not as bad as it looks I swear. It opened up again in class after I...went to...What are you doing?"

Akira's not listening, instead taking another step closer. He swallows, hard. Another step.

Mishima's backing up now. At first he looks startled, but that quickly changes when Akira get's a little to close for comfort. He's afraid, it wasn't very hard to tell, but Akira was sick, so he found it more and more difficult to care.

Humans weren't suppose to smell like _this_. What _was_ it?

"K-kurusu...kun." He's shaking now, both of them are, but for entirely different reasons.

The smell, it only got stronger the closer Akira got. It was memorizing, controlling. He couldn't stop himself, only a couple steps away from his pray now, and he licks his lips. He bares his fangs, eyes red with _want_.

Mishima can't look away, instead he gives a meek and startled squeal when the other grins. It wasn't the weird, goofy grin he gave whenever Ryuji failed a test or when Ann had to throw away another love letter found in her locker, it was much different. It wasn't human.

"...w-wait...don't-"

It's to late. He had already snatched up his hand, holding it with a grip so tight Mishima flinched in pain. Akira sniffs the wound a few times, then he licks it. Another growl comes from him, draining all the color from the others face. He continues to lap at the fluid, slow and gentle, as if he were savoring every moment. His fangs poke the skin every now and then, and he's doing all of this while never once looking away from Mishima's gaze.

He feels the pulse quicken, and slowly a faint flush goes across the smaller's pale cheeks, and Akira loves it. Red never looked so good on anyone.

It's been made very clear that Mishima was no mere human. No, he wasn't like his friends, like any other human he's ever seen - Mishima was a rare type. His kind is a delicacy to any vampire, and Akira knows a few who would kill their own kind just to get a hold of him. But this was his. Mishima was his, he could belong to no one else but him. And he needed to make that _very_ clear.

"Yuki." Akira whispers, and Mishima turns ten different shades of red. No ones probably ever called him by his first name before, besides his own parents of course, but in Japan first names were somewhat sacred from what Akira remembers. That's what Sojiro told him anyways. He chuckles and moves in a bit closer, his free hand gently resting under Mishima's chin. He lifts it to get a better look at him, and it's really cute watching him try to form words that made sense. He was a stuttering mess. "May I?"

Well, it would have been rude not to ask.

Mishima dryly swallows and opens his mouth, but he can't find the right words. He wan't to reject him, push Akira away and run without ever looking back. Vampires were an entirely different species compared to humans. They were stronger, faster; one of them could surpass an entire army if they wanted to. It happened in the history books, so who's to say it still can't. But being in front of one, coming face to face with one of them in person, it was a _much_ different experience then what he's read in any history book.

Mishima knew no matter what he said it would never get him out of this, so if he played along maybe he wouldn't die in such a shameful way. "...wha-" He finally manages to say, slightly biting down on his quivering lip before trying again. "w-what do you mean?"

Akira doesn't say anything else, instead he runs his thumb over Mishima's cheek a few times before carefully tugging at his hair, slowly pulling his head aside to further expose his neck, damp with sweat. He licks his lips one last time before leaning in and giving the skin another faint lick, one much longer then on his hand. He whispers something sweet, even he doesn't know exactly what he said - too caught up in the moment - but it has Mishima gasping before he finally goes in for the kill.

"Ah!" Mishima tightens the hold on his lip, almost drawing more blood. There's pain, _so_ much pain. It wasn't terrible, but rather extremely uncomfortable, almost like he was being violated. But even so he lets it all happen. Mishima doesn't cry for help, doesn't fight back, instead he just lies there, letting it all happen. He wasn't sure if it was some kind of trick or spell Akira pulled on him to make him like this, but whatever it was sent shivers down his spine, and now he was keeping himself quiet for an entirely different reason.

Being how quiet it was in the room, the noises Akira was making was very audible, and as soon as he sank his teeth into the flesh, the world around him ceased to existed. He gave Mishima all of his attention. He held him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. The taste...it was _astounding_.

This was nothing like Akira has ever had before. No, this was an entirely different experience in itself. It wasn't love, but rather greed. Perhaps a little of both, but no matter what it was, all he knew was that this had to be his, and no one else would _dare_ try and take away anything that belonged to him.

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 **There needs to be more Akira X Mishima fic's out there, geez.**

 **I thought about it, and I might make this an entire thing if you guys like. Short stories about vampire!Akira and innocent Mishima. I have ideas, but I'm not entirely sure. What do you guys think?**

 **Thanks for reading! :)**


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